


Coming Home

by italktoomuch



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-20
Updated: 2015-09-20
Packaged: 2018-04-22 14:35:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4839077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/italktoomuch/pseuds/italktoomuch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: Katniss Everdeen actually has a boyfriend, and he is the sweetest, kindest person she knows. He won’t push her and she’s glad, but that doesn’t mean she won’t push herself. College!Everlark AU where Katniss first has to discover herself before she can fully accept what she feels for Peeta.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coming Home

Coming Home…

I kiss him sweetly and pull back, ending the way our lips had moved frantically against each other’s, his hands tangled in my hair spread back on the bedsheets.

“We’re going to be late, Peeta,” I whisper to his hair, his head dropping down briefly to rest his forehead at my shoulder.

He looks back up, shooting me a smile and sighs, the weight of his body still on top of mine before he rises, stretching a hand to pull me up too.

This isn’t the first time I’ve stopped us going any further than his hands trailing up my sides under my shirt, the butterflies and nervousness too much for me to bare. In fact, I got here deliberately too late to prevent anything further from happening.

He clears his throat and offers his hand, his smile soft and warm and kind. “Yeah, they’ll be wondering where we are.”

I nod, smile sheepishly and take his hand, leaving to meet our friends.

*

I’m just… not ready. I’ve not even… figured myself out yet, how can I… how could he… I’m just not there yet.

Johanna would tell me to just do it already! And Madge would shoot her a scowl and tell her to shut up. And tell me to make up my own mind. And Annie… Annie would smirk under her long, red hair, a faint blush tinting her cheeks (the look that we all know to be related to Finnick, even after being with him for the last two years) before she would tactfully agree with Madge, while also agreeing with Johanna, though phrasing it more delicately… like “perfectly natural”… or something.

The thing is… I’ve been in college for over two years, and until three months ago, I hadn’t even kissed a guy never mind having even thought of being where I am now, with the sweetest, kindest, most beautifully perfect boyfriend ever.

I want to do it, I think. I do. But for Peeta. I want to have sex with Peeta, for Peeta… I’m just not sure I want to for me.

I don’t even know me.

He hasn’t actually said anything about it, and I know he wouldn’t force me. But still, somehow, I feel guilty.

I sigh, throw down my book to the nightstand and flick off the light, pulling the covers tightly to my chin, and breathing in deeply, inhaling the warm scent from Peeta’s old tee, and close my eyes to sleep.

*

“Pee – Peeta! Pe-eeta sto-op!”

I burst into a fit of giggles as his fingers dance and tickle fiercely at my sides, poking into my ribs and making my breaths hitch and puff in clouds of white in front of us.

He laughs too, and tilts my chin up to kiss me, swallowing my fading laughter. His lips are soft and gentle, I melt with them into a puddle of contentment and awakening butterflies. I’m still smiling when he pulls away.

His arm wraps around my waist, and he smiles back, bright, golden. We continue walking back to my apartment in the cool midnight, stars twinkling on the carpet of blackness above us.

“Do you have classes tomorrow?”

“Yeah… Lit and then philosophy. And I have practice at three. Want to come over after? I can give you more secrets about baking.” He nudges my hip playfully, smirking. “Or you can pretend to listen while licking the bowl again.”

“That one. That sounds perfect,” I grin.

He squeezes me closer. “What about you?”

“Just some labs in the morning. Then I’m going back to sleep until you finish.”

“Lucky.”

I stick my tongue out at him and detangle myself from his arm, pulling my keys from my bag.

“I was up all night studying for today so I have an excuse. I hope Johanna is asleep, I’m too tired to stay up.”

We make for the stairwell, and I feel Peeta’s fingers lace themselves through mine making my heart skip and flutter in my chest and a heat rise lightly on my cheeks.

“I thought she went with Madge and Gale to the party. It’s all I’ve heard Gale talk about for weeks. That and rubbing it that the three of them don’t have classes tomorrow.”

“Oh yeah,” I remember, reaching my floor. Peeta stays one floor above us with Gale and Finnick - though he and Annie basically live with each other between the two apartments.

“Well… I’m gonna get to bed.”

I try not to see his smile falter, even if it was just a little.

“See you tomorrow?” he asks brightly, his smile as sweet as ever.

I nod. “Try and stop me.”

I reach up on my tiptoes and pull his head to mine, caressing his jaw in my hands as his lips touch mine. His tongue slips into my mouth as I eagerly welcome it, stroking back with my own. My fingers move and curl in his shirt and the hair at the nape of his neck, his own warm on my cheeks and tangling in my hair. I moan into his mouth, the buzz causing him to pull my lips further to his.

Only when I am sure neither of us can breathe anymore do we break apart. He pecks my nose with swollen lips, my own throbbing in a brilliant tingle too and my head spinning.

“Goodnight, Katniss.”

“Goodnight.”

*

I can’t sleep.

I’ve been lying in bed in the dark for at least an hour and nothing. I’ve read three chapters of my book, I’ve counted sheep, I’ve drank some warm milk – I’ve done everything bar read my lecture notes to try and send me off.

I huff and open my eyes, rolling to lie on my back. I stay this way in the silence for a few minutes. It can’t be that late, Jo and Madge aren’t back yet.

I let my thoughts drift, running over what I need for tomorrow, thinking about exactly how long I can push the snooze button before I really do have to get up, what I’ll do when I get home tomorrow before I meet Peeta. My thoughts stay on Peeta for a long time, the longest time.

I’ve not felt this close to someone in so long, not trusted and opened up to someone this much. Not since… no I’m not gonna think about Prim and dad and how they are no longer here, that won’t help me sleep, much less stop the nightmares. So I focus on Peeta. I break him down and concentrate on each part of him, his eyes, his lips, his smile.

Hands. I can’t stop thinking about his hands. I’ll get to see them in full action tomorrow while he bakes. A shudder runs through me and I squeeze my legs together.

This is why you’re so confused! You do want him, you’re just nervous!

Slowly, I pull my knees up, and let my hand fall between my thighs, a single finger rubbing through the cotton of my underwear. This I’ve done before, it’s familiar.

But it’s not enough. It hasn’t been for a while.

Just do it!

I bite my lip. There’s no one else here, I remind myself.

And then I slip my fingers under the waistband of my panties, nervously pushing at my folds. They are slick and I feel a buzz at the new sensation, the intimacy of my skin’s contact. I find my clit, throbbing already, discovering how I need my fingers to draw tight circles around it to feel like I am about to shatter.

It’s still not enough. I know it, this sensation isn’t all new.

I stop and cautiously trail my hand down to my center. Don’t think, just do.

Slowly, but determinedly, I push one finger inside myself, gasping at the feeling. It’s different, but not uncomfortable. Hesitantly, I let my finger curl upwards and a bolt of electricity shoots through my legs as I press down on that spot. My hips push into my hand, my back arching a little, and I start to move, in and out, curling and pressing. I slowly push in a second and grip the sheets with my other hand. My nipples have peaked and are visible through my, well Peeta’s, shirt.

If I close my eyes I can imagine that it is him, his hand working me. Or his cock. I could even imagine his tongue there, his blond hair at my centre and a twinkling grin on his face as he would look up at me before reconnecting his mouth, his hands on my hips and our bodies pressed tightly together.

I let my fingers reach back to my clit, circling it quickly as though I have been doing this for years. My limbs twitch out of my control and I don’t think I have the power to keep going and… and … oh! I let the hot, electric buzz wash over and carry me away. I sigh, warmth pooling between my legs and I pull my hand to rest above my head, my chest panting slightly as I come down from my high, spent and sated.

So that’s what all the fuss was about.

My eyes feel heavy now. I’ve barely rolled over and pulled the sheets back over me before I succumb to sleep, not even changing into clean sleep shorts and not having a clear thought to care either.

*

When I wake there is a smile still on my lips. I am happy and I feel freer, lighter. I roll on to my back, still smiling and stretch. I could lie here all day in a blissful cocoon of happiness. No, there’s something missing. The only way to make this feeling any better would be to feel his arms wrap around me. Then I could lie here all day, with him. I toss the covers off quickly and swing my legs to the floor. Stupid labs.

*

“And now we add the flour – Katniss, that’s for the topping!” He mock scolds me, tapping my knuckles lightly as I pinch another chocolate button. I am sitting on a stool in his kitchen, having offered no pretense of attempting to bake and instead, have eaten most of the buttons and stolen dips from the bowls Peeta uses while watching him carefully.

His hands. I can’t stop looking at his hands. How they knead and work the ingredients together, skilfully yes, but I appreciate the pulling and twitching from the movement of his hands on his strong forearms and biceps more. I run my tongue over my lip and cross my legs. Last night seems to have awoken an entirely new side to me, one that I swore probably wasn’t within me, least of all like this. I feel a hunger, for him. All I can think of is him.

He sets the tray in the oven, turns on the timer and looks back at me.

“Well I think I did a great job.” I smirk.

With a shake of his head and sly grin, his fingers sweep across my face, leaving trails of flour on my cheeks.

“Peeta!”

“Yes?” His eyes are twinkling with mischief and false innocence.

I don’t have a reply but I still feel a pull to him. I need him. I hop down and stride to him, my hands reaching for his face to pull his lips to mine. He copies, his hands cupping my cheeks easily. His lips are hot on mine and I am sure he would be sweet, but I don’t want him to be. I need him so badly. I push my tongue past his lips, tasting him quickly before he returns, now his tongue plunging through my lips. I groan and grip him tighter, closer to me.

I feel his hands do the same, scrabbling fingers into my hair, probably dusting it with flour.

And for the first time I feel him hardening and pressing into me.

I pull back.

“Katniss, I- sorry, it’s – it’s…”

I smile gently, whispering to his lips. “C-Can we go to your bedroom?”

His eyes nearly pop out of his head, and his mouth hangs open. I don’t think I’ve seen him so conflicted, his eyes darkening and his tongue wetting his lip, but his brows furrowing lightly and his body hesitating.

“Are-are you sure?”

I don’t think I’ve ever been surer of anything, but I don’t tell him that. I nod, slip my hand into his and lead him to his room myself.

He asks again as he hovers over me, “Are you sure?”, his lips having already trailed across my naked body, my hands timidly gripping him, barely able to follow his instructions with his mouth on my breasts and fingers at my core.

“Are you sure?”

I nod, and I say the one thing I am sure of. “I love you, Peeta.”

His eyes widen. “That’s the first time you’ve ever said that to me,” he breathes with a wide smile. He said it first. And, he never pushed me to say it back. He made me love him all on his own.

I capture his lips before he speaks again, and dig my heels into his back as he finally pushes himself fully inside me.

*

I worry it’s awkward, that I’m awkward and I’m not doing the right thing. But he feels so good. And although he reassures me with words that I’m “perfect”, it makes me feel better when I hear him try to choke back a groan or a curse or when he cries out incoherently – something Peeta never is.

After, with his bedsheets draped over our sweaty bodies, his arms wrapped around my torso and his lips brushing my hair, he asks me…

“You love me, real or not real?” he murmurs to my ear.

I smile and turn on my side to be facing him. Our noses bump and I smile sweetly, kissing him so so softly before I whisper to his lips. “Real.”

I feel like I am finally at peace with a war I fought only against myself. Like the calm that follows a long, deep sigh. But conversely, I am excited. I know I’ve stepped into an entirely new area for me and taken our relationship through boundaries that I had set around myself. But I’m glad, I’m so happy. With him, only him. It could only ever have been Peeta. The relief almost feels as good as the bubble we now share, just us, only us, but fully and completely us.

I feel like I am home.


End file.
